Thursday, August 28, 2014

One of the first things I tell people about Nuestros
Pequeños Hermanos (NPH) is that it is not just an organization that cares for
orphaned, abandoned and at-risk children. It is a family. For me, this unique
quality makes the volunteer experience more cherished. The people I came
to know are not just children and employees in an organization but instead are
family members with a permanent place in my heart.

Though we encompass nine Latin American and Caribbean
countries, I have happily called NPH El Salvador as my family since 2008, when
I made my first trip to the home. Ever since then, I knew that I belonged here.
I felt that God was pulling me back.

One of my first pictures taken as a
volunteer and it couldn't have been any
more representative of real life: three
toddlers on my lap on a hot, sunny day.

When I began my volunteer position in the summer of 2013, I
arrived to the home with a fair idea of what things were probably going to be like
based on prior experiences. The only concrete unknown to me was how life would
be like living in this community. I
had only ever been a visitor, not a resident. There are no volunteer quarters,
so I stay in the volunteer/visitor room in the girls’ home. In the morning, I
wake up to the cacophony of life that is a house full of more than 100 girls
ranging in age from eight years old to early twenties. In the late afternoon as
I leave work, I often run into the high school youth who are returning or the
babies and toddlers scurrying about on the playground. In the evenings after
dinner, I occasionally go to the clinic to spend time with my friend who is a nurse,
and then afterward I am sometimes asked to help the older girls with their
English homework when I get back to our house.

Because of safety concerns, my weekends and free time are
spent at the home. Weekends are simultaneously full of routine elements but
also surprises. There’s washing clothes by hand, choir and dance practice, time
to do big chores but also to lounge around. We may take a short walk down the
road to cut mangos, climb the large hill nearby, or swim in the river that cuts
through the property. There is never a dull moment. Life thrives here in this
special community.

There is essentially no established volunteer program here,
and for 11 months I was the only one. I became the first volunteer in years. There
are other NPH homes with thriving volunteer programs. In those situations, the
volunteer community can often be its own microcosm within the NPH home, and
there is an established support system, a place to go when you have questions
and others who are experiencing the same newness as you are. In my case, instead
of relying on veteran volunteers or having a coordinator to help, I relied on
the children and the staff members for guidance when I arrived. My community was
solely composed of the children and the staff of NPH, and I absolutely loved
that. My identity has been shaped by living there in this unique way because I was a part of the family, not just someone who works there.

We called each other gallina, which means "hen" in Spanish.
One evening these two girls were teaching me words and I
misunderstood the word for flip-flop (gina) and thought they
said hen. Somewhere, that became our nickname for one another.

Within weeks of my arrival, the girls had taught me how to
wash clothes by hand. There were times when I struggled, and they would nonchalantly
shoo me away and grab my clothes and wash them while I watched and learned. I
once pushed the same two toddlers on the swings for almost two hours. For the
first few months, the youngest girls and I would play soccer every Sunday
afternoon. They tried in vain to teach me, but months later everyone amusingly
accepted (myself included) that I will never be a soccer player. Before three
of the older boys left for our university house in the city, every day like
clockwork when I got off work we would sit under the big tree and treat
ourselves to chips and soda. We call ourselves the “4 Musketeers.”

The 4 Musketeers' favored pastime was enjoying chips and soda
under the big tree on the property. Though I was sad to see them
go, I couldn't have been happier or prouder when they all moved
to our university house in the city to start their studies.

What will never cease to surprise and amaze me is the depth
and reach of unconditional love that I witnessed on a daily basis. It is a
community where the individuals aren’t just awesome neighbors who lend you a
cup of sugar. It is a family full of pasts filled with hurt, anger, abuse, and
sadness, but it is also a family that heals and mends itself with time and
unconditional love. It is a family where in their vulnerable state, big tough
teenage boys let you hug them and walk off the field arm in arm with you after
losing an important soccer match. It is a family full of adolescent and teenage
girls who grab your hands while you walk to dinner each night and tell you
about their day. It is a family full of babies and toddlers who smother you
with hugs and kisses when you walk into their house at playtime.

My volunteer experience was been enhanced to an infinite
level because the “community” I lived in is a humongous family in which I
was able to laugh, cry, be embarrassed by and equally embarrass, be annoyed by
and also annoy, and ultimately be loved by and love my more than 300 brothers
and sisters. Living with and amongst these children, I was witness to a tangible
piece of the Kingdom here on earth.

Saturday, August 16, 2014

Former Jesuit Volunteer Corps Northwest memberFrom Service to Sisterhood Vocation Story

I was nearing college graduation at the University of Dayton
and was grappling with the question, ‘Where to next?’ I was unsure about my
career path, but I had a desire to be engaged in direct service, to be living
in intentional community, and to grow in my faith. A year of service seemed
just the right fit for me. Having lived in southwest Ohio all of my life, I was
ready for an adventure. So I was off to Anchorage, Alaska to serve with the
Jesuit Volunteer Corps (JVC) Northwest.

My JVC community departing from orientation on our way to Anchorage, Alaska.

My service placement with JVC was at Bean’s Café, a soup
kitchen and day shelter for the homeless population of Anchorage. I worked in
the Social Services office of Bean’s. My duties included distributing
toiletries and vitamins, sorting and distributing mail, driving clients around
town, assisting with housing applications, and simply being a listening ear and
a friendly, welcoming face. I lived in intentional community with seven other
Jesuit Volunteers. These seven strangers became my family for the year. We
shared a house, money, meals, prayer, struggles, and joys. We supported each
other in our quest to live a radically simple lifestyle, doing without some of
our usual material possessions and comforts. This experience of direct service,
community living, and a simple lifestyle began a slow transformation within me;
a transformation that would continue to evolve in the coming years.

Posing with a client of Bean’s Café during my final week of
service with JVC Northwest.

After my year as a Jesuit Volunteer, I returned to my home
state of Ohio and went back to school full-time to pursue a graduate degree in
nutrition. For the fist time, I was living by myself. Despite the fact that I
was near friends and family, this was a very lonely time for me. I desperately
missed the support and companionship of community living. But where could I
find community living as a person in my mid twenties? I felt like all of my
friends and peers were getting married and starting families. I was also
unsatisfied by my daily routine as a graduate student.I felt like I was consumed by my own agenda
and studies, and was not making an impact on the world or those around me. I
looked for support in my faith community, and did find some nourishment there,
but I was craving more. I could not help but question God, ‘Where have you
brought me? And where is all this going? I need a change, God.’

After a couple years of questioning and waiting, God finally
showed up one day in my mailbox. I received a letter from a college friend,
Tracy. Tracy and I both did full-time service programs after college, and we
kept in touch as pen pals to share about our experiences, supporting each
others’ life and faith journeys. Tracy had been discerning religious life, and
at the time she wrote her letter, she had just begun formation with the
Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati. I was envious of Tracy’s new life; she was
living with an inspiring group of women, daily serving those on the margins,
and was delving deeper into a relationship with God. Despite my admiration, it
never dawned on me that I could have that life too, until Tracy flat out asked
me in her letter, “Annie, have you ever considered religious life? I think it
would bring you much joy.” The question hit me like a tons of bricks. It was
like the fog suddenly lifted and I could see clearly the path in front of me.

Everything
that I was missing and craving – community living, direct service, simplicity,
a faith-centered life – could be found in religious life.

So I began the search for the answer to this life-changing
question, ‘Am I being called to become a Sister?’ As I began to explore the possibility,
my image of a modern-day sister began to change. The Sisters I met were highly
educated, working on the forefront of social justice issues, contemplative in
prayer in the midst of an active ministerial life, and most importantly –
joyful. I looked at these women and thought, ‘I want to be a part of that.’ As I opened myself up to this
possibility, I was drawn by the idea of joining something so much larger than
myself. I heard God say, ‘Annie, give me your life and I will magnify it.’

Teaching a nutrition workshop for the moms of Proyecto Santo
Niño in Anapra, Mexico.

During
my time of discernment, I did lots of looking back on my life to try to make
sense of the experiences that had led me to this point. Although I was not
intentionally discerning religious life during my service with JVC, I could
clearly see how my time as a volunteer guided me toward religious life. My
experiences of community living, direct service to the poor, and simplicity
were seeds planted within me. However, it took a couple of years for these new
sprouts to spring forth; I needed time for the experience to marinate, and for
the slow transformation process to unfold on God’s time.

My community for my affiliate year at Casa de Caridad:Sister Janet, myself, Sister Peggy, and
Sister Carol.

As I write this, I am half way through my first year of
formation with the Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati. It has been a life-giving
journey thus far, and each experience affirms that I am on the right path. As I
look around, I am filled with hope to see that I am not alone. There are many
other young women also beginning their pursuit of religious life. As we share
our stories with one another, each path is unique, but all have common
characteristics – we all crave community, long for a more just world, desire
simplicity, and thirst for a deeper relationship with our God. Blessed are we
who are called to this communion.

For more resources on discerning your vocation through service, click here.

Social Profiles

Our Mission

Catholic Volunteer Network is a national membership organization of Christian volunteer and mission programs that fosters and promotes full-time national and international service opportunities for people of all backgrounds, ages and skills.